


Broken Talons

by Nightelfbane



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: & is platonic, / is romantic, And by 4 i meant 5, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Escape, Everyone thought she was always a sleeper agent, F/F, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Morning breath is terrible, Nobody in Overwatch knows that Amelie was brainwashed, Not spiderbyte, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prerelationship mcsombra and widowtracily, Shouldnt be more than 3 chapters maybe 4, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightelfbane/pseuds/Nightelfbane
Summary: Sombra and Widowmaker are forced to defect to Overwatch, where they're met with suspicion and mistrust.





	1. Escape from Château Guillard

**Author's Note:**

> First multi-chapter fic.  
> If you see any spelling / grammatical errors, let me know so I can correct them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic takes place before two of my other Overwatch fics, "Sombra Hacks Two Hearts And One Arm" and "All We Have Left Of Them". But not my meihem fic, that's not in the same universe as this fic.

Amélie Lacroix was sipping wine and reading when the call came in.

She set her book down and reached for her phone. Looking at the screen, she saw it was an audio-only call from Sombra.

Amélie frowned. Sombra didn't call unless it was important.

For the past year, Sombra had been protecting Amélie from her Talon masters. She warned her of upcoming inspections. She altered medical records to prevent "maintenance" sessions, as the Talon doctors called them. Without the maintenance, the reconditioning they had put in the sniper's brain had started to crumble. Without the barriers, she felt real emotion for the first time in years. Hatred. Grief. Anger. Fear. Sadness.

A desire to escape.

She answered the call. "What is it?"

Sombra's normally playful voice was anything but. "Widow, they found out! About everything!"

Amélie stood up. "Sombra, calm down. What's happened? What do they know?"

"They know I've been covering for you but they don't know how far gone you are. Dr. Walker is already on her way to do an inspection, she left hours ago! She'll be there any second!"

At that moment, Amélie heard the telltale sound of a Talon transport ship.

The assassin exploded into motion, swiping things off her desk and storing them in the crates around the room. She knocked back the rest of the wine in her glass and threw it and the bottle into a crate. The book she placed back on the shelf with the rest of them. "Why didn't you tell me _before_?"

"I didn't know until just now! They know about my involvement, planned this through paper and courier! It doesn't matter, just get ready for the doctor! I have to disappear, I'll contact you later." With that, Sombra hung up.

Amélie looked around frantically. She could hear the transport landing outside. The entire room must reflect what they wanted her to be: an unfeeling killing machine, void of personality.

She looked down at herself. She was wearing comfortable black pants and a tank top. She was supposed to be in her ridiculous purple catsuit and recon visor, ready to ship out at a moment's notice. Well, there was no time to change now. She'd have to hope her attire wouldn't tip off the doctor to her current "unmaintained" state.

She took a deep breath, regained her composure, and sat back down.

Three sets of footsteps echoed through the Château. Two were the heavy thuds of Talon footsoldiers. The third was the quieter clacks of Dr. Walker's heels.

The Widowmaker was reading one of her upcoming target's files when the doctor stepped entered the room.

"Widowmaker, your attention."

The sniper instantly snapped the binder closed and stood at attention, her face impassive, the picture of military obedience. Dr. Walker examined her shortly before turning away to look at the room, leaving her guards at the entrance to the room. They were typical grunts, black body armor and glowing red eyepieces. They held automatic rifles held in their hands, pointed at the floor

Amélie hoped they couldn't see how nervous she was. Her heartrate, while still well below average for a woman her age, was increasing. She watched the doctor peruse the room. Dr. Walker was a pale woman, with black hair cropped close to her skull. She was currently browsing Amélie's computer, flicking through tabs and reading her e-mails. The assassin wasn't worried; there was nothing on her computer that would give her away.

Then the doctor moved to the crates to the left of her desk. 

Amélie almost allowed her shoulders to visibly tense before she forced herself to relax. Most of her few personal belongings were hidden in a small crate at the bottom of the pile. As long as the doctor didn't open the green one with the wine in it, she would be fine.

Dr. Walker grabbed the green crate. 

Amélie's eye twitched, and and she inwardly lashed out at herself for losing control. She was thankful the doctor's back was turned to her...but if she opened that crate...

Her fears were unfounded. The doctor moved the crate to the desk without opening it. Instead, she went to open the one that was under it. Nothing was in it but ration packs. She dug through it for a moment before closing it. She was about to turn back to the Widowmaker when her gaze caught on something. 

The doctor stepped towards the bookshelves, craning her neck. Widowmaker followed her gaze and felt a fresh wave of dread roll through her.

The wedding photograph of her and Gérard Lacroix was displayed on one of the higher shelves. The doctor was looking right at it. 

_Merde._

She whirled around in a kick, catching the Talon soldiers behind her by surprise. Her foot struck the soldier on the left, shattering his eyepiece and sending him stumbling. She moved behind him before the other could raise his rifle, grabbing his head and twisting it with a resounding crack. The life left his body as she sent him hurdling towards the other soldier. They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, a string of colorful curses flowing from the survivor. His panicked tirade was cut off when Widowmaker brought her foot down on his neck, crushing his trachea. He struggled for a few moments, the mask muffling his strangled gurgles before he fell unconscious and died.

Amélie had already turned away towards the doctor, who had shrunk back into the corner of the room. Golden eyes glared at her. The sniper watched her gulp before opening her mouth and speaking.

"I didn't suspect that you were this broken." Her voice was thick with fear. Her face shined with nervous sweat.

Amélie turned away and walked to the opposite side of the room, towards the railing looking over the dining room.

Dr. Walker watched as the assassin opened a very particular case. From it, she drew the Widow's Kiss. Walker blinked in disbelief as she saw something incredible - the trembling in the Widowmaker's hands as she loaded the rifle.

"You need me."

Amélie turned back to the doctor, the woman who had subjected her to countless maintenance sessions - the incisions, the needles, the feeling of hot glass in her skull as they ripped her brain apart and turned her into a broken-hearted killer. Her hands continued to tremble as she raised Widow's Kiss to her shoulder and put her eye to the scope.

"Look at you. You can barely hold that rifle. You've become weak without maintenance. If you do this, there's no going back. I can help you, make you strong again."

Amélie stared at her through the shaking scope for a moment before lowering the rifle, leaning it against the railing.

Dr. Walker let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She walked towards her subject, smiling approvingly.

"You're making the right choice, Widowmaker." She reached into her lab coat, pulling out a small syringe. "Let me give you a sedative. I'll take you back to my lab and fix you right up. It won't hurt at a-"

Amélie's fist crashed into her face, sending the doctor to the ground. The syringe fell to the ground beside her before being crushed by Amélie's foot. Blood spilled from Walker's mouth and teeth from her broken jaw littered the floor. 

The sniper glared down at the monster at her feet. The doctor's brown eyes looked up at her over the hand covering her mouth, silently pleading for mercy.

Amélie sent a kick into her belly, causing the doctor to curl up and spit more blood onto the floor. 

"I am not your  _tool_ ," the sniper spat. Another kick. "I will  _never_ go back to your lab."

The doctor cowered on the bloodstained floor. Amélie glared down at her, breathing hard, fists clenched. She had never felt emotion this strong; rage stampeded through her. She felt alive, more so than during any other kill. 

She grabbed her rifle and raised it to her shoulder again, pointing it at the doctor's ribcage. She pulled the trigger without another word, ending the doctor and ending her half-life as Talon's puppet.

Amélie stared at the broken corpses strewn across the ground for a moment before going to one of the crates and retrieving her visor, grappling hook, and wedding photograph. She left behind the catsuit. 

She made her way to the Talon transport. It was set down on the roof with the boarding ramp down. She strode up silently, Widow's Kiss in its submachine gun mode. 

The pilot was sitting idly in the cockpit, playing with her phone. Amélie snapped her neck from behind the pilot's chair and dragged her back through the ship. She tossed the corpse out of the ship and slapped the control to close the ramp as she headed back towards the cockpit.

Amélie sat in the pilot's chair and was about to take the ship up when she realized she had no idea where to go. She and Sombra had not yet planned that far ahead when they discussed their escape. 

She pulled out her phone and called Sombra. The hacker answered, this time on vidcall. 

"Amélie, are you okay? What happ..." her voice trailed off as she saw the blue face in her holographic display.

"What's wrong?" Amélie asked.

"I take it the doctor is dead?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

Sombra motioned to her face and Amélie realized she was spattered with blood. She stood up and headed to the transport's restrooms, taking the phone with her. As she wiped her face, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Had a close call with Gabe. Got away. We need to move fast, though."

"What do we do now?"

Sombra sighed. "I don't know yet. I'm transmitting my coordinates. I assume you have the doctor's transport?"

"Oui."

"Come pick me up."

She went back to the cockpit and punched in the coordinates. "You are in Spain?" 

"Yeah. Don't forget to ditch the tracker on the transport."

Amélie acknowledged and ended the call. The ship's location transmitter joined the corpse on the roof of Château Guillard.

The transport lifted off from the roof and headed southwest. Amélie didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until more information about Moira's relationship with Widowmaker is revealed, I wrote this so it could be viewed as "Walker both reconditioned and maintained Amélie" or "Moira reconditioned Amélie and Walker is in charge of maintaining her". Whichever you prefer.
> 
> Please leave a comment!


	2. Defection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra and Amélie discuss their next move

Sombra walked up the transport's ramp, dressed in inconspicuous jeans and t-shirt. She waved at Amélie when she saw her standing in the passenger compartment.

"Hey, araña." Her voice was back to its usual playful tone.

"Hello." Amélie's voice was as cool as ever. "Where should we go next?"

"Well, I was thinking about that..." She trailed off.

"And?" Amélie prompted.

"You won't like it..."

"Out with it."

Sombra looked her in the eyes. "Watchpoint: Gibraltar."

The sniper grabbed her shoulders. "Sombra!  _Overwatch?_ They will  _kill_ us!"

Sombra raised her hands defensively. "Hey, hey! Take it easy."

Amélie took a deep breath and released the hacker. 

"Listen. Nobody at Overwatch knows about your...reconditioning. I nabbed your medical records from Talon before I had to run. They're a bunch of do-gooders! If they saw your medical records they'd be falling over to help you."

Amélie had to admit that it might make them less likely to shoot her on sight. Still, she didn't relish the idea of surrendering into their custody.

"What about you? You are a wanted criminal who worked for Talon."

"So what? They're all wanted criminals. They're in violation of the Petras Act. They even hired Junkrat and Roadhog, of all people! Once I offer my services and return the kidnapped wife of an old agent? They'll hire me on the spot."

Amélie gave her a look. "I wasn't aware you were interested in working for Overwatch."

Sombra's face twisted and she looked away. "There are a lot of things you aren't aware of about me."

Amélie sighed and began pacing. Sombra watched her silently. Eventually, the sniper reached a decision. "Fine. Fine! We'll go to Gibraltar."

Sombra grinned at her. "You won't regret this! Come on, let's go!"

They set their course and the transport lifted off again.

* * *

Jack Morrison strode into the briefing room, where Winston and the rest of the team were gathered around the table.

"What have we got?"

Winston looked back from the display, which was showing a map of the surrounding land. "Single transport on a direct course for the Watchpoint." The transport was represented as a red dot on the display.

"Is it the U.N.?" Asked Hana Song, on loan from the South Korean government in return for help driving off the Kaiju Omnic during its last attack.

"Can't be. They wouldn't send a lone transport. It's not even cloaked," said Ana.

"Well then, who is it?"

"We don't know," said Winston. "I have to assume this is some kind of attack. Everyone-"

He was cut off by Athena. "Winston, we are recieving a transmission from the transport ship."

"Put it through." Everyone looked to the display.

A face they all recognized appeared on the screen. Everyone stared at the face of the hacker they had met in combat more than once, shocked.

"Uhh...hey, guys!" Sombra said.

"What do  _you_  want?" Jack growled, once he had come to his senses.

"We're, uhh...defecting. From Talon. To Overwatch."

She was met with another stunned silence before Torbjörn snapped, "No! No! N, O, no! Whatever it is you're playing, you can forget it."

Sombra summoned one of her holographic screens and tapped a few commands. "Here's just a taste of what I'm offering, friends."

A map of London appeared on the screen, covered in red dots.

"All those little red dots are Talon safehouses and bases if operation. Talon doesn't even know I have this map. Or any of the other maps. With this, you can cripple their operations in London for years."

Winston stared at the map, at one little dot in particular. Situated in a small, out of the way street in King's Row.

"...Sombra, you have permission to land," Winston said.

" _What?_ " Torbjörn sputtered.

"Close transmission."

Sombra's image winked out, leaving the map of London on the display.

"Winston," Torbjörn began, but the scientist interrupted him.

"One of those bases was just down the street and around the corner from Lena and Emily's apartment."

"That...is problematic," Dr. Ziegler said after a moment.

"Indeed," Winston replied. "I want to verify this information - Athena, contact Tracer and tell her to check it out."

"Right away."

"I'm going to go meet Sombra. Pharah, 76, Mercy, suit up and join me."

After retrieving their equipment from the Watchpoint's armory, the four agents made their way to the launch pad outside, there the Talon transport was just setting down. 

They took up positions behind the vessel, where the boarding ramp was lowering. Sombra stepped onto it once it was settled, walking down towards the group.

"My, my, all this for me? I'm flattered," she said.

"Not just for you. You did say ' _we're_  defecting', after all. Who else is in there?" Winston asked.

Amélie chose that moment to step into view.

The group exploded into chaos. Soldier: 76 trained his pulse rifle at her and began shouting at her to get down on her knees with her hands behind her head. Pharah glared silently at the woman as she remembered when she learned her mother had "died", rocket launcher aimed at Amélie. Sombra put herself in the way of 76 and tried shouting over him. Mercy put herself in the middle of all of them and tried to talk them all down. Amélie stood on the ramp, glaring at 76, readying herself to attack. She knew coming here was a mistake, now she would have to-

Winston's angry roar caught them all by surprise. He reared over the group, face growing red and his eyes crackling with electricity. 

Everyone backed away, silenced. As they eyed the gorilla nervously, his face returned to its normal color. Winston got back down on all fours and coughed politely at their stares. 

"Now that we've all calmed down...explain yourselves."

Amélie answered coolly. "As Sombra said - we are defecting."

76 snorted in disbelief. Pharah turned to Winston. "We can't trust them. Widowmaker almost killed my mother. She  _murdered_  Gérard, your friend!"

Only Mercy saw the pain that flit across Amélie's face.

"It wasn't her fault!" Sombra snapped. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a data pad. She tossed it at Mercy.

"Go on. Tell them what is."

Mercy scanned the document and paled.

"Mercy?" Winston asked, concerned.

"'Project Widowmaker'," she quoted. "It-it describes the use of brain implants and external stimuli to turn Amélie Lacroix into Widowmaker." She passed the pad over to him. She looked like she was going to be ill as Pharah moved over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"External stimuli?" 76 asked.

"Torture," Amélie answered coolly. "Injections, surgeries, operations. No anesthesia. When they weren't using the implant, that is. I was-" Her sentence was cut off as her left eye rolled back into her head.

_No, please. Not again._

"Araña?" Sombra's worried voice 

"I need...I need..." Amélie trailed off as her face started twitching uncontrollably. Her entire body spasmed and she fell to the ground, seizing.

Her brain felt like it was being boiled inside her skull. She thought she heard shouting, but the pain made it hard to make sense of anything. The last thing she was sure of was the feeling of hands grabbing her and lifting her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are encouraged


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Angela blames herself for everything.

Angela was hunched over her desk, staring at the screen, when Fareeha entered her office. She was carrying a tray of food for the doctor.

"Doctor?" The lights were down, and Fareeha fumbled for the switch. The lights came on, revealing the doctor's disheveled state.

 _Shit_ , Fareeha thought. Angela's clothes were rumpled, indicating she had slept in them. Fareeha knew she kept a cot in the medbay, but she doubted the doctor had even made it that far. Her hair was frazzled and she had dark half-moons under her eyes. Fareeha knew the doctor tended to overwork herself, but this was far beyond that.

"Have you been at your desk the whole time these past two days?"

Angela sighed and gestured at the screen. "Look at it."

Fareeha stepped closer, setting the tray on the desk and  looking over the doctor's shoulder. She scanned the document. "A medical report for Amélie Lacroix?"

" _The_ medical report for Amélie Lacroix. After her kidnapping. I gave her a clean bill of health."

The pieces began to come together. "Angela, what happened wasn't-"

"It  _was_ my fault!" The doctor snapped. "I failed! I didn't look hard enough, I didn't run the right tests! Gérard, Mondatta, they're dead because of me, and now Amèlie is-"

" _No! Not_ because of you!" Fareeha grabbed her shoulders and spun her chair around to look her in the eye. "What happened to them was not your fault. The only ones to blame are Talon. You had no reason to believe there was any damage to Amèlie beyond the physical, did you?"

Mercy just looked at her for a moment before shaking her head. 

"That's right. Now," Fareeha said. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to eat everything on this tray, then you're going to shower, and then you are  _going to sleep._ Understood?"

Angela couldn't help but chuckle tiredly. "Yes ma'am." She dug into the food Fareeha had brought, wolfing it down in huge bites. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. 

She finished the tray and Fareeha walked her back to her quarters. Angela opened the door and stepped inside before turning back. 

"Fareeha?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

* * *

Amélie rose into consciousness slowly, reluctantly. 

The first thing she grew aware of was the lingering pain in her head. The second was a stale mouth. The third was a Mexican hacker.

"Water." She croaked.

Sombra helped her sit up and handed her a glass of deliciously cool water. The sniper drained it greedily before looking around. 

She was in a hospital bed, in what she assumed was the Watchpoint medbay. Sombra was sitting on an uncomfortable looking chair. A curtain was drawn around her bed for privacy. She was dressed in a hospital gown.

"What happened?"

"You had a seizure or something. The doctor knows more than I do. Want me to get her?"

"We can trust them?"

Sombra nodded. "For now."

"Then yes. Bring the doctor."

The hacker left to fetch Angela, returning shortly. The doctor, freshly showered and rested, brushed past the curtain, holding a clipboard and a strange device.

"Am-Miss Lacroix. How are you feeling?"

"What happened?"

Mercy held up the device. "You mentioned an implant Talon used to...recondition you. I assume this is it - I removed it from your brain after you had your seizure." The implant in question was spiderlike, and Angela couldn't help but wonder if that was a form of morbid humor from the Talon scientists.

Amélie stared at it. "They used it to stimulate the pain centers of my brain during my reconditioning and maintenance."

"I figured as much when I took it out. Unfortunately, it also contained a GPS tracker. When Talon realized you had gone rogue, they triggered it at its highest setting. They hoped to kill you."

Amélie tore her gaze from the implant and met the doctor's gaze. "So...what happens to us now?"

"I've verified that you've broken almost all of Talon's conditioning, and the rest is soon to follow." Angela turned to Sombra. "Winston has verified some of the data you sent and is willing to trust you, for now. He's given you limited access to the watchpoint."

"Thank you, doctor. I will need my clothes, of course, before I'm able to move about," Amèlie said.

Angela nodded. "I'll have them brought to you. If there's nothing else?" Both women shook their heads, and the doctor left. 

"Well, araña," Sombra said after a moment. "It looks like we've successfully defected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gimme your comments.


	4. Drinking Midnight Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whiskey with cowboys.

Jesse McCree stepped into Watchpoint Gibraltar's rec room, looking for a drink. He was caught mid-yawn when he realized there was already someone at the bar. Drinking _his_ whiskey.

"Sombra, that's mine."

The hacker was pouring herself another glass of whiskey. "Heeey, vaquero! Join me."

McCree shrugged and sat down next to her, setting his hat down on the bar and taking the glass she offered him. "Gotta say, this seems awfully familiar," he commented after he drank. 

Sombra laughed. "I didn't think you'd remember! You were so out of it."

McCree did indeed remember that Christmas in Castillo. It wasn't until after he joined up with Winston and the others that he learned that he learned who the mysterious purple-clad woman was. 

"What can I say? I got experience with whiskey."

The two sat in companionable silence for a time, drinking, before the cowboy spoke up again. "So, what's your angle?"

Sombra looked at him as she poured another glass. "Huh?"

"Why'd you leave Talon? What're you after here?"

She scoffed. "There's no angle." She sipped the whiskey.

"C'mon," McCree insisted, knocking back his own drink. "You don't do anything without something to gain. What's your angle?"

"There's no angle! It was just..." The hacker trailed off, unsure, before sighing and throwing back the rest of her whiskey in one gulp. "Right, so, before Christmas last year, I snuck a bug into Amélie's recon visor. It let me see whatever the visor saw."

"Uh-huh."

"So, while we were getting drunk in Castillo, Amélie was sneaking off to Paris without authorization."

"What was she doing in Paris?"

Sombra poured herself another glass. "Visiting her husband."

It took McCree's whiskey-dulled mind to make the connection. "Oh."

"Yup. Talon was  _furioso!_ They ordered an immediate maintenance session." She stared into her glass.

"Maintenance sessions?"

She sighed again. "The Widowmaker's mental reconditioning was only a temporary thing. Some of it, anyway. Parts of Amélie's mind kept trying to force their way back to how they were before. The emotional blocks kept wearing down. A couple times a year, she was brought in for _maintenance_."

She drank. "They left the visor in the room with the rest of her gear while they worked her over. It was pointed away from the operating table, but I could still hear her screaming."

She didn't tell him that Amélie had begged the doctors to stop, or that she had screamed Gérard's name. He didn't need to know.

McCree took a deep breath, then let it out all at once. "Shit."

"Yup. Couldn't stand to be there anymore, but I couldn't leave her behind, either. I started fudging the computer records, making it look like she passed all her evaluations and didn't need maintenance, or that she had already had one. Eventually, she began to really think for herself."

McCree poured them both a generous helping of whiskey and drank. "What're your plans now?"

Sombra hummed thoughtfully. "I dunno. I had plans with Talon, but those are fucked now. I guess I can hang with you guys for a bit, help take down Talon while I get back on track. They're on my shitlist anyway."

"Same here." McCree clinked his glass against hers. "Cheers."

As they drank, the cowboy couldn't help but notice how  _beautiful_ she looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments pls


	5. Starlit Picnics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Tracer finds at the Talon safehouse, and what happens upon meeting Amélie.

Tracer had been terrified.

She didn't feel fear this deeply before a mission, but this was different. Talon had a safehouse less than a block away from her and Emily's apartment. Immediately upon recieving the information from Athena, Lena had called Emily and told her to lock all the doors and windows, close the blinds, and to not answer the door.

Then she went to the safehouse.

Getting inside was easy. The place was located in a shabby hotel on the third floor. With a glance down the hallway, Tracer attached a small device against the keycard reader and waited as it did its work. When the door opened, she slipped inside, unholstering her pulse pistols with sweaty hands.

The lights were off, and she waited until here eyes adjusted before moving further into the hotel room. On her right was a small kitchen. Straight ahead was the living room, and to the left were the bedrooms and bathroom.

She moved to the left, checking each room and verifying that the place was empty before heaving a deep breath and holstering her guns. She went back to the living room, turning on the lights as she went.

Piles of takeout boxes spilled over the living room coffee table. Cameras, laptopsn and notebooks rested on the dining room table, along with more dirty takeout boxes. 

The centerpiece of the whole arrangement, however, the thing that made Tracer's gut roil and her breath hitch, was the whiteboard leaning against the wall opposite the door in the living room. 

Emily's picture was taped to the center of it, with her full name written alongside it. Next to it, a map of the city was taped up, with Emily's route to work marked in pen. Tracer also recognized some of her girlfriend's favorite shops and restaraunts marked out. Her work schedule was written in dry erase marker, along with a list of friends, coworkers, and associates. 

Tracer felt sick looking at it. Shaking, she pulled her phone out and dialed Emily. 

"Lena? What's going on?"

"Em, are you okay? Has anyone tried to get in?"

"What? No. Lena, please just tell me what's going on." Emily's voice was scared and desperate.

"Listen, Emily, I want you to pack your things. We're leaving immediately." She heard Emily take a breath to speak and cut her off. "I promise I'll explain everything later, but right now please just do as I say, okay?"

Something in her voice tipped Emily off, and she nodded, even though she knew Lena couldn't see her. "Okay. I'll pack. Get home soon." She hung up.

Tracer put her phone away and dialed Winston, grabbing the laptops and notebooks off the dining table. 

"Winston? Yeah, the data was good. I need you to send an Orca up here as soon as possible. It's not safe for us anymore."

* * *

Two days later, Emily was settled into Lena's quarters at Watchpoint: Gibraltar and Lena herself had finally calmed down from learning that Widowmaker and Sombra were on the base and not in holding cells. Athena, Winston, and Jack were going through the laptops and notebooks she had retrieved, and all Lena wanted to do now was sit down and have some relaxation time with her girlfriend.

Which is why the two of them were climbing the stairs to the roof of one of the Watchpoint's buildings.

"...I got mango juice, cucumber sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies, and Hana's Doritos," Tracer said, rummaging through a hastily packed picnic basket as she ascended the steps.

"Isn't she going to be mad that you took her chips?" Emily asked from behind her, carrying a blanket.

"She stole my slice of pumpkin pie last month. As Fareeha would say, justice is-" she broke off as she opened the door to the roof.

The Widowmaker, Amèlie Lacroix, sat on the edge of the roof, gazing up at the stars.

"Justice is what? What's-" Emily peered over her girlfriend's shoulder, spotting the blue-skinned assassin.

Winston and Mercy had explained to both of them the circumstances of Amélie's "recruitment" to Talon and her more recent defection. Lena had been angry and stubborn, vowing to remain wary of the two defectors. Emily, however, had been more thoughtful, which was only to be expected, she supposed. She had never had to fight Widowmaker, never mind the night Mondatta was killed. 

"C'mon luv, let's find somewhere else," Lena whispered, glaring at Amélie, who seemed not to have noticed them. 

Emily pushed past the smaller woman, reaching into the picnic basket and grabbing a mango juice on her way over to Amèlie.

"Em!" Lena hissed, grabbing her arm. "What are you thinking?"

"You heard what Dr. Ziegler said. The poor woman was tortured and brainwashed for years. She could use a friend."

"It's too dangerous!" Lena insisted.

"A starlit picnic isn't half as dangerous as the things you do on a regular basis, Lena." Emily pulled free and continued towards Amélie.

The assassin heard their footsteps and turned, tensing when she saw Lena walking towards her with an angry expression. Her attention was drawn away from the time traveler towards the redhead, who was holding out a bottle to her.

"Juice?" She offered.

Amélie hesitantly took the bottle, but didn't open it. She watched as Emily spread her picnic blanket on the roof next to her. Lena caught up to her, still glaring at Amélie. 

Emily sat down on the blanket, tugging Lena reluctantly down next to her. "Care for a picnic? We only packed for two but we can share."

Amélie looked between the redhead and Lena before speaking. "I do not think I would be particularly welcome."

"It's fine, we can all be civil. Right, Lena?" Emily said, looking pointedly at her girlfriend. 

"...Yes," Lena said coldly, earning herself an elbow in the ribs.

"Very well," said Amélie, moving onto the picnic blanket and sitting cross legged, accepting a cucumber sandwich from Emily. The three ate in tense silence before Emily spoke up.

"So, Amélie, what were you doing up here? Stargazing?"

"Probably setting up a sniper perch," Lena muttered.

"Lena!" Emily snapped.

"Lena," Amélie said, more gently. She set her food on her lap and looked Lena in the eyes. "I am...sorry. About Mondatta. About...Gérard." She looked down at her hands. "I was not strong enough to resist Talon, and they died as a result."

Silence reigned before Lena sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry, too. I've hated you ever since that night in London. It's hard to let go." She looked up at Amélie. "What are you going to do now, that you're free of Talon?"

The assassin's golden eyes hardened, and Emily felt chills run down her spine. Widowmaker was here now, not Amélie. 

"While I was in Talon, I learned that there were plans for more...of me. More Widowmakers. More victims." Her fists clenched. 

Lena and Emily both remembered the safehouse dedicated to monitoring the redhead, and the pieces fell into place. As one, they sought each other's hands. 

Widowmaker continued. "There were many 'doctors' involved in the creation of the Widowmaker. They can't be allowed to continue." Her hands unclenched and her entire body relaxed. "I know that it will take a long time to be trusted again. But...I would like to join Overwatch. To assist against Talon."

Lena took in a deep breath, then let it out all at once. "I didn't expect that."

"You disapprove?" Amélie asked.

The time traveler didn't answer right away. "No. I do approve." She sounded surprised by her own answer. "It's true, not everyone will trust you immediately. I'm not sure that _I_ do. But you deserve the chance."

Amélie smiled for the first time and Emily kissed her girlfriend's cheek while reaching for Hana's chips.

"Who wants Doritos?" She asked.

Amèlie's grimace of distaste made both of them burst out in laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


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